sarasnow2024

[sarasnow2024]

Honor the divine in yourself

According to an ancient shamanic blessing translated from Nahuatl:

′′I release my partner from the obligation to complete me.

I release my parents from the feeling they failed with me.

I release my children from the need to bring me pride, so they can write their own paths to the rhythm of their hearts, as it whispers in their ear.

I don't lack anything, I learn from all beings, all the time.

Thanking my grandparents and ancestors who came together to allow me to be alive and follow my path today.

I release them from past failures and unfulfilled desires, knowing they have done their best to travel their way of living with their standard of consciousness.

I strip my soul before their eyes that's why they know I don't hide or owe anything.

I must be faithful to myself more than ever by walking with heart wisdom, I know that I am fulfilling my life project, free from family loyalties that can disrupt my peace and happiness, this detachment is my responsibility.

I surrender the role of the savior, to be the one who unites or meets the expectations of others.

I cherish my essence, my way of expressing it, even if not everyone can understand me.

I honor you, I love you and recognize you innocent.

I honor the divinity in me and you...

We are free.′′~

Photograph: Thinloth Photography

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Stunning sunset last night at at Stonehenge, Wiltshire, England, UK.

📸 Jeff Randle

[sarasnow2024]

Some actually useful Questions to get to know your OC better...

↳ What’s your character’s biggest fear and how does it screw up their relationships? Are they terrified of being abandoned? Do they push people away before they can leave? Are they scared of not being enough? Or being too much?

↳ What’s something they’re stupidly passionate about, and how does it drive their entire life? Like that thing they’d fight someone over. That core belief, hobby, or dream that lowkey fuels every decision they make (even when they say it doesn’t).

↳ What’s one childhood memory they can’t shake and how did it shape the way they see the world now?

↳ What weird habits or quirks make them totally them? Do they always talk with their hands? Hum when they’re nervous? Refuse to eat foods that touch?

↳ Do they have a secret talent no one expects? Like, are they surprisingly great at card tricks? Can they play the piano at concert level but never talk about it? Bake the world’s best banana bread?

↳ How do they handle failure?

↳ Who’s had the biggest impact on their life, and why? Friend, enemy, sibling, teacher, ex?

↳ What do they believe in, deep down? Like, what’s their moral compass? What lines won’t they cross? What kind of person are they trying to be, even if they mess up along the way?

↳ Is there an item or feature they’re weirdly attached to? A necklace? A hoodie? A scar? A pair of old sneakers?

↳ Do they have recurring dreams or nightmares? And what do those dreams mean? What are they trying not to deal with while awake?

[sarasnow2024]

Druid of Durrag’s Tower by Lin Chang

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Rohanne Webber and Fairy Women

John Keats, “La Belle Dame sans Merci”

Frank Dicksee, La belle dame sans merci (c. 1901)

Charles W. Lemmi, “Symbolism in Faerie Queene, II. 12”

Carole G. Silver on James Hogg’s “Mary Burnet” in Strange and Secret Peoples: Fairies and Victorian Consciousness

John Hutchings, “Folklore and Symbolism of Green”

[sarasnow2024]

❄️🌛Hi!

45+, she/her

I'm looking for a person willing to write love interest for semi-canon/ OC character Sara Snow.

Conditions:

F/F - I think I won't be "authentic" when writing F/F, although I have nothing against such stories.

Protagonist can be canon, semi-canon, OC; crossovers - possible, but let's talk about it.

Age range for co-writer is irrelevant for me as long as it's 18+ and said person is comfortable writing with me and my age range.

I'm open for discussion about angst, period violence (sword fighting, brawls etc.), but I'd like to avoid Ramsay Bolton-style & level of cruelty.

I do prefer canon / Medieval universum, but I'm open for discussion about modern AU.

<3

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An Inuit otter amulet. Engraved and pigmented ivory, c.1870-1880.

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A stark oc of mine I drew a while back! Inspired from a scene from some movie or show, I can't recall which one

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"Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price."

[Lord Cregan Stark 'The Wolf of the North']

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The 13th Warrior (1999)

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Lady of the Laughing Tree

Father Philip sighed with relief and sat down on a comfortable bench under the kitchen window, carefully leaning his oak stick against the wall so that it was within reach. Bessy the Cook gave him a quart of good, chilled brew. For a week he had been looking into every nook and cranny, supervising deliveries, servants, the kitchen, halls decoration, guest rooms preparation and the tailors and seamstresses milling about everywhere.

- There's nothing like a good ale after a hard day's work.

- If you hadn't been running up and down the stairs...

- For those scoundrels to steal and destroy everything? Oh no! And do you remember, dear Bessy, how on the royal twins' name day Pete fell asleep under the table? If only I hadn't checked the hall then!

- But you did, now sit down and drink!

Philip sighed as he dipped his lips into the delicious drink, raised his free hand and slapped his knee out of habit. He would have slapped Bessy, but they had not spoken yet, and since she had only been in mourning for seven months, it was not proper to court! Dowager Queen Alicent would certainly not approve!

- What will you have?

- This is the fifth time you've asked me that! - Bessy huffed, although she knew well that Philip expected to taste a few things from the royal table. - As a side, we will serve salad...

- It's good for rabbits nor adult man!

- And who asked you? There will be all kinds of eggs, cold meet and several kinds of cheese too.

- Now that's better! And for the main course?

- Potted hare and trout baked in clay.

- Good, good. And for the dessert?

- Oh, sweet biscuits and these mini marzipan cakes.

- Veeeery good! Do you remember, dear Bessy...

Bessy didn't hear that day what was that she would or would not remember, because Father Philip froze with his mouth open like that famous trout baked in clay.

From the bench they had a pleasant view of the well-grown herbarium. Usually one could see servants there, and sometimes the Keep’s maester or Harold, court's secretary, but this time a complete stranger was walking down the path - and worst of all, in Philip's opinion - it was a bizarrely dressed woman.

Her hair was braided into several tight ropes, her features noble, both mature and young, timeless beauty, but her ruffled, yellow-orange dress or tunic reminded more of the mummers or comedians' costumes than of attire appropriate for the royal court.

The woman approached Bessy and Philip, bowing her head regally.

- Welcome, good people. - she smiled prettily. - If you hear of any weakening woman or maiden in need, send her to me. I am Sarah Snow, half-sister of the lord of Winterfell, Cregan Strak. - Having said that, she simply turned around and left.

- And who is that?! - Bessy gasped.

- Haven't you heard? The Stark's bastard.

- It's a witch from the North! - Felicity the scullery maid threw out. - I heard that the rope maker's wife fell down just in her time at the Old Gate, and lady Snow stopped the whole squad, ordered Lord Stark to hold the woman in labor and cut her belly open!

- You're just chattering away! - Philip was angry. - How do you mean - cut her open?!

- Yes, like some do with a sow! - Pete threw out, lugging wood. - The butcher told me that witches in the North do that when a child doesn't want to come out, but they can then use spells to make the woman in labor survive.

Philip made Star sign.

- You're dumber than lobster bait, and I didn't say that at all! - yelled the butcher, who had just arrived. - They do it with threads, like every quack, not with any spells! Only ointments and elixirs, such that they will even drive away puerperal fever. If such as this one appeared when the late Queen Aemma time came...

- Get to work! - Bessy boomed. - See them, maesters altogether, experts on what's under a woman's gown! It's none of our business, whatever happens or doesn't happen, it's all in the hands of the Gods!

- Well said Bessy! Go and deliver it, Pete! And you, Felicity, the cauldrons from the day before yesterday are waiting! - reminded Phillip.

Bessy pretended to check the delivery, but she glanced anxiously in the direction where Sara Snow had gone. Her youngest daughter was eight months pregnant and Bessy worried, if she can afford the decent maester, just in case.

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“They have not forgotten the Mysteries,' she said, ‘they have found them too difficult. They want a God who will care for them, who will not demand that they struggle for enlightenment, but who will accept them just as they are, with all their sins, and take away their sins with repentance. It is not so, it will never be so, but perhaps it is the only way the unenlightened can bear to think of their Gods.' Lancelot smiled bitterly. ‘Perhaps a religion which demands that every man must work though lifetime after lifetime for his own salvation is too much for mankind. They want not to wait for God's justice but to see it now. And that is the lure which this new breed of priests has promised them.' Morgaine knew that he spoke truth, and bowed her head in anguish. ‘And since their view of a God is what shapes their reality, so it shall be–the Goddess was real while mankind still paid homage to her, and created her form for themselves. Now they will make for themselves the kind of God they think they want–the kind of God they deserve, perhaps.' Well, so it must be, for as man saw reality, so it became.” ― Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon